I got up this morning and found that winter had officially arrived overnight. It’s really a complete paradigm shift; every little aspect of life here near the Canadian border changes, from the clothes we wear to the places we go to the things we do. Now, where’s that shovel?
It’s peculiar the way we ourselves also change with the seasons; myself, I’m a bit more laid-back in the summer, but winter brings out a more responsible me.
when my world
turns wintery,
i turn into
winter me
–photo by me
a virile, young hare known as pete
kept after the females in heat;
in fathering young,
he could not be outdone–
just look at the size of those feet!
–photo by me
young eagles regroup
for some parental guidance
as the first snow nears
here, the rules of survival
change along with the seasons
–photo by me
when we try
every morning
to cross the
rocky way,
the beasts come without warning–
searching for their prey
photo by me
upon the inspection
of his own reflection,
the gull was impressed
and called it perfection.
with no explanation,
he deserted his station
and followed his image
to an unknown location.
sometimes self-promotion’s
a powerful potion,
and soon the gull found
he was lost on the ocean.
–photo by me
have you
ever seen
the evergreens
turn yellow
in the fall?
if so,
in fact,
they’re tamaracks–
not evergreens
at all
–photos by me
Standing out here under a starry, Minnesota-dark sky, I can understand why some of my ancestors thought the aurora borealis, like the rainbow, was a bridge leading from Midgard (earth) to Asgard (home of the gods). Although the northern lights are often swirling and dancing across the ebon stage, sometimes they are still, like a ghostly, glowing bridge to the heavens. I get it.
are the northern lights
but a restless, emerald
stairway to heaven?
–Photos by me
the marten’s a rather rare sight
and rarer when standing upright–
is that just a very tall cat
or a very, very tall rat?
–photos by me
the banks of the creek
prosper under the same sun–
yet, one is favored
though the sun shines on us all,
it’s the angle that matters
–photo by me
I’m quite ill today (feels like razorblades in my throat), so I’m just going to leave you with a shot of a happy young chipmunk for this post. Take a look at his fingers–instead of cracking nuts, he could be cracking safes! Ouch. Don’t make me laugh.
Photo by me
